Evelyn
Despite my many attempts of loosening Rowan's hold on me I failed. He pressed feather-light kisses on my neck each time I tried to pry him away. I groaned at how tight he was holding me but he just wouldn't budge.
"It's just a week, Row."
"That's too long," he said, his mouth against my collarbone.
"It's just a week so no, it's not too long. Your parents are expecting you, Rowan."
"Angel, shh." He lifted his head up and stared at me. Not in a creepy way but in a way that told me he adored me and wouldn't ever let me go. The one person who argues on a regular basis with me, doesn't talk to me for a long period of time due to these arguments is the one staring at me as if I mean the whole world to him.
You mean the entire galaxy to me, Row.
"Can you believe that it's almost been two months since we've started dating?" he asked, tracing the lines inside my palm.
"I thought we wouldn't even make it to the first month after everything that happened in the first few days of us dating," I admitted, laughing at my early conception of this relationship.
"On the day of our child's birth I'm going to remind you that you didn't believe in the progression of our relationship from the start," he stated, tapping my nose as if he was telling me off. At the mention of having a child together a wave of uneasiness washed over me and I stepped away from his embrace. Rowan noticed how uncomfortable I was at his statement and thankfully he didn't comment on it.
"I seriously should get going," I said, backing away from him and moving in the direction of my car.
"Ok. I'll text you later."
"Bye." I thought just once that nothing would happen between Rowan and I before the holidays. Just once. But no I had to mess things up. I was afraid. Afraid of the future yet terrified of the past repeating itself. What did I have but hope to believe that if our relationship flourished in the future that Rowan wouldn't leave me the way my dad left my mum? The fear of the past coming alive again consumed me daily and if I was to conquer that fear I would be left shattered and weak. Too weak to carry on with the stability I had built for the present.
Having Rowan as my boyfriend scared the living shit out of me. He was too good to be true - too good to be mine - and the nagging in my head constantly reminded me that one day he will be gone because of me. I will have done something to mess this relationship up and in the end no one will be bothered to fix it. He would move on and get a girlfriend better than me but I wouldn't. Who would want to date a girl who refuses to let anyone in to read the book about her life? Who would want to date a girl who has been torn up and tossed around by her past and is still haunted by it? Who would?
I suddenly heard a loud beep snapping me back to reality, making me abruptly hit the brakes. I braced myself against my seat due to the impact before profusely apologising to the driver I nearly crashed into.
Breathe, Evie, breathe.
It's ok, Evie, it's ok.
You're almost home.
When I noticed the familiar array of houses with a peaceful silence enveloping the neighbourhood I knew I had arrived back home. After putting my car in park, I rushed out of it and knocked on the door of the house I lived in for a solid eleven years. I was greeted with sight of Uncle Noah wearing that big smile I was accustomed to.
"There's my little girl," he exclaimed, holding me hostage in his warm, homely hugs. "How have you been, Evelyn?"
"I've been well, Uncle Noah. What about you and Aunt Primose?" I asked, stepping into the living room I spent my childhood silently watching TV and playing with my jigsaw puzzles. I never talked much as a child - the trauma didn't allow me to. However, that never stopped Uncle Noah from talking to me continuously each day whilst he played with my mute self. He didn't give up on me and I was so grateful for that.
"We're both fine. Actually Jason decided to pop round for a few days as well since Claire's gone on a little adventure. He's upstairs if you wanna meet him. Your aunt's gone out shopping but she'll meet you when she's back."
"Cool. I'll go meet Jason then, Uncle Noah." He nodded and let me go upstairs. I could hear Jason curse in pain from the guest bedroom and laughed at his clumsiness. When we were kids Jason was always the one who'd trip over and skin his knee. He wouldn't cry though, he'd just sit there and wait for someone to pay attention to his bloody knee and put a plaster on it.
I knocked on the door and when the all clear was given I went in to see my blonde haired, green eyed cousin. Jason's eyes weren't a solid colour but his irises had a dark rim of green around them, filled in with a pale green and highlights of amber. He had a lean, slightly muscular body despite the fact he ate a lot. When he finally noticed who was at the door he jumped out of his seat before tripping over something again.
"Oh gosh, Jace," I rushed over to him to see the carpet burn he received on his forearm. "You're twenty-two yet you still manage to trip over things," I muttered unimpressed.
"You're almost nineteen yet..." he went into deep thought about something he could criticise me on but undoubtedly couldn't find anything.
"Yet?"
"Yet... you still don't know what... two plus two is. Ha!"
"It's four, Jason," I replied, looking really confused as to why he thought I didn't know that.
"No, it's a fucking fish. Such a narrow mind you have, Evie."
"All the better to judge you with, Jace," I replied, quoting Red Riding Hood.
He stared blankly at me for a few moments before suddenly burying me in between his arms and chest. "I missed you, little one."
"Missed you too, Jace. Now why is a twenty-two year old afraid of being at home alone?"
"Am I not welcome here?"
"No."
"Wow, Evie. I thought we were closer than that. By the way, Aunt Primrose has told me about this new boyfriend of yours. So do you want me to buy a knife or a gun?" He asked, placing his fist on the side of his cheek looking very serious about his question.
"Neither. Rowan would never hurt me." I'd probably hurt him.
"A hundred percent?"
"Yes, Jason." Before Jason could reply I heard an excited voice booming from downstairs. Looks like Aunt Primrose was back .
"Evie, where are you?" she squealed. Let the further procession of hugs begin.
xxx
"How long are you staying for?" Uncle Noah asked, cutting his medium rare steak up into pieces. I stuffed a quarter of my roast potato into my mouth and quickly chewed to prevent looking like I had no manners when I talked.
"Probably until next week. I also have to get back and do some things in the library," I explained, trying not to make a mess of the food on my plate.
"Do you want to do anything special for the next six days you're here?" Aunt Primrose asked, spooning more salad in to my plate. The salad was bright green yet the red tomatoes caught my eyes. I hated tomatoes with a passion deep within my soul. The texture was wrong and the taste was way too horrid for me to allow it to enter my digestive system.
When Aunty Claire was held up with something 'important' Jason used to have dinner with us which ultimately meant that salad had to prepared to make dinner more filling. I never understood how a few vegetables could fill you up more but I didn't question it. Whenever tomatoes ended up being splattered on my plate Jason would take them out and swap them for his cucumber pieces. I loved cucumber in my salad and so did Jason but not once did that stop him from swapping our veggies.
The second Aunt Primrose went back into the kitchen Jason took his spoon and removed all the tomatoes from my plate.
"Evie, why didn't you invite Rowan for dinner?" I was too intrigued in the food I was eating to even process the question I was asked.
"His parents wanted him back home."
"Understandably." She drew her attention away from me for a moment before she spotted the lettuce littering the table. "Look at the mess you're making, Evelyn." And her motherly instincts were back.
xxx
The misty breeze circled around me, and the leaves rustled as they were swept aside by the force of the wind. There wasn't a walking soul around as I rested against the huge oak tree facing my mother's grave.
Brianna Cartwright
March 18th 1979 - March 30th 2005
A precious daughter and loving mother who went too soon
I traced the engraved words on her gravestone with my index finger, lingering on her name. Her name meant 'strong' and she lived up to it. A week after my birthday every year she'd take out a box from under her bed and look at all the belongings from her previous life. Her life before me. Brianna Cartwright was a quirky, confident teenager who caught Colin Lawson's attention when she stood up for her best friend who was being annoyed by Colin's best friend. Mum thought Colin was her soulmate after only a few short months, but she was wrong.
Colin was a coward.
I didn't despise my father but strongly disliking him was another story. I watched videos of mother during her maternity period and she looked so joyful eventhough I knew she was anxious about having me. Colin popped into the videos every now and then, and I could see the characteristics I inherited from him. My green eyes, my slender fingers and my dark, wavy hair were from him. It's clear to see why my mother fell for him the way she did.
The death of my mother left a gaping hole that nothing nor anyone could fill in. If I laid back and thought hard I could still recall her calm, soothing voice as she called me out of my room for dinner or to get ready for school. I remember always skipping happily out of the school doors to show Mum my report card just to see the proud look on her face at how hard I was studying. Some days we'd sit on the sofa and silently watch a movie with her stroking my hair with her soft hand.
I didn't notice the slow drop of tears falling out of my eyes until one landed on my hand. I didn't wipe them away though, I openly allowed them to pour as if they were raining down on the grave.
"Oh, Mum, I miss you," I wept silently, tucking my knees under my chin and wrapping my arms around them. "You never warned me about how my world would fall apart once you left me alone, Mum. You don't belong up there yet, Mum. MUM, PLEASE! MUM!"
The tears weren't a light rain anymore but a heavy downpour. I wanted to yell my pain to the world but my mum was my world, so who else would I yell too?
"You never got to see me graduate, Mum. You always said that I was going to make you proud by living up to my full potential, then why aren't you here to witness it? I want you to hold me again, Mum. I want you plait my hair again and kiss my forehead after you were done. I'm so sorry, Mummy. I'm so sorry." I rested my head against the stone and just rested my hand against her name as if it would bring some sort of connection between my mother and I. "I hope you're happy up there, Mum. You deserved the entire universe and you better be getting that wherever you are. I love you, Mum."
I laid against the tree again and gazed out towards the horizon. On no occasion did I have a desire to have extravagance in my life but despite that the simple things seemed to be ruining me. I could give up everything in the world for peace and serenity but somehow destruction would find it's wretched way to me just to be sure my world carried on breaking apart.
I wasn't allowed to be forgiven and I sure as hell didn't deserve peace when I took someone's life.
xxx
I don't know what I wrote, honestly. I just wrote and wrote without the slightest plan. I truly think characters have a mind of their own and they write the story not us.
Whilst writing the scene where Evie is at the graveyard I felt weirdly emotional but that's probably because I was listening to a sad song.
Until next time, my readers.